


A Vision of Velveteen

by seashores



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cross-Generation Relationship, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Infidelity, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:09:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28411458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seashores/pseuds/seashores
Summary: It’s not easy to come to terms with the fact you’re a terrible person.(In which Thedoore Nott, self-imposed recluse, strikes up an odd acquaintanceship with his only friend’s married father, Lucius Malfoy, and falls quite in love.)
Relationships: Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy/Theodore Nott
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	A Vision of Velveteen

**Author's Note:**

> Of all crack ships to take me over, this was… probably the least expected. A tiny bit of information in Cursed Child about Theodore and Lucius, and my brain just took off with it. But it’s infected me fully, and I can’t get them out of my head. So! Welcome to this wild ride. If you’re not comfortable with huge age gaps and slightly fucky dynamics because of it, please exit stage left.

The ring sparkled as Theo lifted it up from the potion it was resting in. The potion was an entirely useless measure, as it was meant to prevent rusting and ensure the ring kept its lustre. The smell from the cauldron infused the entire lab up with a stink that reminded him of bleach and coconuts. 

If it was for anyone else, he'd leave that type of superficiality for them to take care of personally. Runes were his specialty; the degree of prettiness something he enchanted had shouldn't matter at all. 

Theo swiped the hair back from his forehead before he wiped the ring down with a sealant and then a spare cloth he set aside. His bangs fell forward moments again later. "Ugh," he grumbled.  


He spun the ring around, scrutinising the engravings on the inside one final time. It was relatively simple, silver and wide with a small black gem in the center. Very masculine _and_ minimal enough to not draw attention. He pilfered it from his father's old rooms -- the old man never wore jewelry when was alive, he wouldn't care. 

His fingers twitched at the thought of Mr. Malfoy actually wearing something he gave him. Theo doubted he _would_ , this entire project was because Mr. Malfoy was like a dragon, wanting to hoard rare treasures. _Wearing_ them wasn't part of the draw for him.

Even so, the thought of his ring on Mr. Malfoy's hand made him start chewing at the skin of his lip. Mr. Malfoy had long, slender fingers. The size of the ring was relatively average as well; it fit snugly on Theo's thumb. So it'd probably fit on Mr. Malfoy's ring or middle finger -- he'd have to see if he guessed right when Mr. Malfoy tried it on. 

He shook his head to banish the thoughts of _his_ ring on Mr. Malfoy's ring finger. 

Foolish didn't begin to cover it. God, he was worse than the fools he went to school with. He dropped the ring to the table and fetched a piece of parchment.

__

> _Mr. Malfoy,_  
>  _I've finished my current work and would like to visit you at your convenience. Please let me know whenever you're available and I can stop by._  
>  _Sincerely,_  
>  _T. Nott_

Short and to the point, with no details to give away anything _questionable_. The ring was perfectly legal, but one could never be too cautious, especially when Mr. Malfoy's letters could be read at any moment.

Better to be prompt than deal with the risk of any of his old classmates now in the ministry reading his _actual_ interactions.

He sealed the letter with the family crest -- not something he bothered with ordinarily, it always seemed a superfluous step when it was just going to be ripped open moments later. His father always called an unmarked letter _uncouth_ , when he was alive to critique his mail.

Theo stood, held back a wince at the ache in his legs, and walked to the owlery. It was an abandoned room he set up to feed his owl automatically and modified the glass windows to open when Maera tapped on them.

Did it _really_ count as one, since it merely held a lone owl and occasionally his cat? He considered the point moot, because he was the only one who was ever in the house now. The room itself was spacious, all furniture emptied and instead filled with branches and rope cages that hung from the ceiling. Fake mice scurried across the floor, a pair of them stuck in the corner and unable to turn around. 

Maera herself was resting on her favourite perch on the wall, a wing lifted as she preened. Her overly large ear tufts stood tall and proud, making her look ridiculous, as always. And as always, he greeted her by brushing a finger over them and observing as they drew back in irritation.

"Hello, girl -- I have a delivery for you. To Mr. Malfoy now, and _please_ don't dally," he said, tying the letter to her ankle with a spare piece of string.

She chirped at him once and went to let herself out. He waited as, with a tap of her claws, she disappeared out the large window and the glass gradually lowered itself back into place. A cursory check at the lock showed it clicked back as well. He huffed a little, holding back a smile. Everything seemed to be holding up just fine, rune wise.

Now that he finished the ring, Theodore was wholly at a loss for what to do next. He supposed he could start on the anniversary present Davies had begged him for, but he'd already been putting it off. Thinking about someone his age already married -- for a _year_ \-- turned his stomach. What was next, pregnant on _purpose_ , before they even hit 20? Dear Merlin.  


He wasn't born until his father was in his 50s, and frankly, that seemed the right of things to him. It didn't make him feel sick, at the very least.

Davies was a prick, but he would probably start pestering him for updates soon. The deadline was next month, after all. But it wasn't anything complicated, so instead, he drifted through the desolate walls of his manor out to the garden. 

The sun beamed high overhead, the light filtering through the large fig tree looming over the entirety of the courtyard. Over the past two years since the house became entirely his, it had truly prospered, while also losing any such thing as _tidiness_ or _composition_. 

Theo headed over to the back of the garden, where he had planted a row of Moly the year before. The white flowers were unwilted and free of spots; he couldn't help but let out a pleased hum. Herbology wasn't his favourite, but the convenience of getting his own plants couldn't be denied. He plucked a black stem and placed it behind his ear for safe-keeping. It'd be easy to drop it off in his laboratory later, for whenever he decided to actually work on Davies' project.

With a quick wave of his wand, the sprinklers in the garden activated and started their daily cycle.

On his way out, he glanced at his watch. What time did he send the letter? Mr. Malfoy should've read it by now. He supposed even under house arrest, he could still be preoccupied.  
Theo rubbed a hand over his eyes and heaved a sigh. He supposed even as antisocial as he was, staying cooped up in his house for over a year might -- maybe, _slightly_ \-- make him a little desperate for some company he didn't hate. 

It wasn't as bad last year when Draco would stop by and have tea. But he had been busy with that younger Greengrass the past months, doing whatever it is people courting did. And even worse, on his more recent visits, he brought up setting him up with one of her friends. As if he'd be interested in some young girl! 

Even the thought of it made shudder. Draco's father was making far better company.

* * *

_Three months ago,_ Theodore left his house to pop by Malfoy manor with a birthday present. It was a week early, but he and Draco had a long-standing agreement that as long as Theodore gave him a gift within a month of his birthday, he could skip the actual festivities.

He'd been granted access to the manor years ago, so it was no difficult matter to throw a handful of Floo powder into his fireplace and step inside. "Southwest drawing room, Malfoy Manner!" Calling ahead would be a pain, and who knew if Draco was even home.

On the off chance that Draco _was_ home, Theodore had put on a somewhat nicer pair of robes that he hadn't slept in the night before. And as he flicked off the spare powder from them, he found himself very thankful for his foresight.

In front of him stood Mr. Malfoy, back facing him as he looked over the bookshelves lining the room.

Theodore usually flooed into one of the sitting rooms close to Draco's chambers, ones guests rarely utilised. He was one of the few with access, and he took advantage of that in the times he visited. The room was spacious and more cluttered than many of the manor's rooms; it was lit up with warm candlelight from the chandelier in the centre and lined with shelves of numerous books too childish or poorly reviewed to occupy the library.

When he was younger, he especially liked the furniture in the room -- two armchairs and a couch of rich brown leather that gleamed and seemed to mold to your body when sat in. He also loved that it was always _vacant_ , but that didn't seem to be the case anymore.

Mr. Malfoy's hair was getting longer, Theodore noticed. A little past mid-back now -- he had it pulled back with a green ribbon. Theo took a step forward, making sure his shoes clicked against the hardwood.

Mr. Malfoy's face looked the same as he shifted to face him.

"Oh, Theodore," he greeted, his face straight as he nodded at Theo. "Are you here for Draco?"

Theo's voice caught in his throat. Flashes of somehow coughing up a hairball flickered before his eyes as he cleared it. Dear Merlin, he wasn't a cat -- if he was to embarrass himself in front of Mr. Malfoy, it'd be something far more plausible than that. Like choking on his tongue.

"I am," he said. "I have his birthday present for him. I thought I'd drop it off in person."

Mr. Malfoy nodded as he turned entirely to face him. He was dressed, as always, in perfectly fitted robes. For someone under house arrest, he didn't let himself go at all. Envy crawled up his throat; Theodore wasn't required by law to remain inside, and he still wore the same robes for days on end.

"I'm afraid he's out today; he went to lunch with Astoria. But feel free to wait for him, he left quite a bit ago," Mr. Malfoy said. "I wouldn't expect him to be out for much longer."

"Thank you," Theodore replied. His palms itched with the compulsion to do something; he shoved them in his pockets to prevent anything _uncultured_ like biting his nails. Bad enough he did it in private. The weight of Draco's shrunken present brushed against his hand, and he pulled out the box. 

There was an oak coffee table in front of the couch that he arranged the gift on, twirling his hand to un-shrink it. Green paper with a silver bow, because as a fellow Slytherin, how could he not?  
"Draco tells me you're quite the inventor," Mr. Malfoy said, stepping over to take a seat in one chair. "Did you make him something for a gift?"

Theodore could feel his fingers tremble and hastily sat down across from Mr. Malfoy. He did _not_ need to be so timid around Mr. Malfoy, he practically grew up with the man. He should've taken an extra swig of pepper-up before he left. _Idiot_.

"I did, he's been mentioning in his letters that it's been challenging to go out... Unwanted attention, and all that. So I enchanted a brooch with a notice-me-not charm, but since it's runic, it shouldn't be detectable like a normal charm," he said. "It's a dragon. I figured, well. Couldn't go amiss with that."

_Dear Morgana,_ he's talking so much. Someone hex his mouth shut.

He'd kept his eyes averted when he spoke, looking at the empty oil painting of hyacinths behind Mr. Malfoy's ear. He couldn't remember if there was a figure who visited this room, the memories of his childhood were blurry. When he peeked at Mr. Malfoy's eyes, he found them intently regarding him.

"That's quite impressive," Mr. Malfoy said. "Do you do this kind of work often?"

"I do, here and there. I've been taking commissions from some old classmates; I don't really need the money after Father passed. But it keeps me entertained enough," Theo replied. Mr. Malfoy's pale blue eyes were not as intimidating as he feared. The rapid pattering of his heart slowed, and he relaxed into the soft leather of the chair.

"Always with runes? Or do you work with other subjects as well?" Mr. Malfoy asked, crossing his legs as he leaned back. Theodore would guess he was just making small talk, but the slight raise of his eyebrows seemed genuinely interested.

"Runes are my favourite, but arithmancy always makes things like that more efficient. They go hand in hand. I use potions too, of course. Charms can be helpful, but I try not to overuse them since they fade faster," he explained, reaching further into his pocket to pluck out a spare button he had shoved in weeks ago.

It was pearlescent and ivory, fairly similar to the buttons on the robes Mr. Malfoy was wearing. Smaller, though. He set it on the table and waved his wand to size it up until it was the size of his fist.

"This was the trial I did for Draco's gift; if you look here, you can see the runes I carved," he gestured around the perimeter of the button. "Exactly 3 millimetres apart, anything more or less made it a bit... _inconsistent_ , when I tested it. Some people noticed, some didn't. This seemed to do the trick though."

Mr. Malfoy picked up the button, turning it this way and that in his hand. "You had this on you, but I felt quite normal when you came in. You appeared as you always do," he said.

"Ah, yes. It doesn't work unless you have it buttoned on your robes. Since it was going to be a brooch, I didn't bother to fix that part," Theodore said, fidgeting a bit with a piece of fuzz in his pocket.

"That's quite ingenious. Do you think I could keep this?" Mr. Malfoy asked, glancing up to Theodore.

"Go ahead," he said with a nod. He watched as Mr. Malfoy tucked the button into his robes, and a moment of quiet passed between them.

_Was Draco ever going to get home?_

Theodore was quite comfortable with silence, normally he vastly preferred it, but his muscles were tense with it now. His mouth was dry -- his tongue glued to the top of his palate. 

"If you're still taking on projects, I'd love to have you make me a few things," Mr. Malfoy spoke again, his voice melodious over the crackling of the fire.

"Oh," Theodore said. A moment passed before he cleared his throat and quickly added, "Yes, of course."

Mr. Malfoy's smile was quite similar to his son's, lips closed and just a tad uneven. The corners of his eyes crinkled with it, the minuscule crows feet growing a tad more noticable. 

"The quality of wizarding goods has gone down inexcusably over the years. I've had a few items I've been wanting replacements for, things that were confiscated years ago, you understand. If it's something you don't feel able to do, feel no obligation to accept."

At that, Theodore clicked his tongue. "I'll be able to do it, whatever it is."

Mr. Malfoy's eyebrows raised a notch, and Theodore felt his cheeks grow hot. This was still his best friend's father, _not_ Draco, and arrogance was unseemly.

"Well, that's pleasant to hear. Let me fetch a piece of parchment, I'll can make a list."

* * *

Back in his office, it only took a moment of staring at the notes Theo took of Davies' gift that his mind wandering back to Mr. Malfoy's projects. Before he realized what he was doing, he held a different set of paper in his hands.

> _Ring that shields from most forms of mind control; any compulsions or confounding charms. Except, of course, Imperius._
> 
> _Disk that makes any material transparent on one side while held against it and allows people to observe through walls unseen._
> 
> _Key that unlocks any door._

Theodore stared at the list and made a little check next to _Ring_ written in Mr. Malfoy's elegant script. His notes had overtaken most of the note now, and it made him flush to look at -- his illegible chicken scratch next to Mr. Malfoy's flowing calligraphy.

It was easy to figure out why the objects had been confiscated; none of them were necessarily _dark_ , but all of them would be useful for the Ministry. All three were probably deconstructed and duplicated ten times over if the unspeakables were capable of it.

Since Theodore was going to make them without even the originals to copy off of, he was sure the unspeakables were capable of it. If they _weren't_ , they should all quit their jobs in shame.

Theodore tapped his fingers against the desk as he mused over which to start on next, the disc or the key. The ring preoccupied him, but now he was free of it. During his work, he'd figured he'd take a break from Mr. Malfoy's projects when he finished because there wasn't a time limit for any of them. But his mind whirred with theories on how to accomplish both of them while maintaining longevity. 

He dawdled at the desk for a minute, idling around as he stared out the small set of windows in his office. It was a lovey day, really. Mr. Malfoy was probably outside; the garden at their manor was much more impressive than Theodore's own. 

He rose with a sigh and stretched his arms above his head until his back popped. His laboratory waited; he'd just leave the door open for whenever Maera showed up with a reply.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to chat with me over on twitter @ seashores20 !


End file.
